


Drabbles

by MMBC



Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: All kinds of spoilers, Angst, Bad ending spoiler, Family, Fluff, Incest, M/M, Romance, kresnikcest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-21 04:19:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2454473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MMBC/pseuds/MMBC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Series of unrelated drabbles on the JuliLudger relationship. Warnings for incest and mature themes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fallen

Ludger held onto Julius as his brother writhed in pain. The painkillers stopped working a few days ago, and since then nothing had helped every time the blackness ate away a little more of his brother.

‘Ngh!’

  
The scream that came out of Julius was strangled when he bit his lip in an attempt to smother it. Blood was seeping out from the bite, and Ludger felt as if it was his heart that was being bitten into a pulp. He raised a hand to touch Julius’s mouth and eased his jaws enough squeeze a finger in between. Better his brother bite his finger off than hurt himself more; fuck, Julius had hurt himself enough for Ludger as it was.

  
And bite down Julius did, the scent of Ludger’s blood mingling with Julius’ own until it became another sort of painkiller on which they became drunk. The same blood flowed through their veins, and yet they smelled so different. Julius’ smelled like Julius, while Ludger’s smelled like himself. Ludger wished they really were different, just Julius and Ludger, with no ‘Will Kresnik’ following either of their names to damn their lives. Maybe then, they would have had a different end, where Julius was not dying and Ludger battling between his guilt and sins and just plain morbidity.

  
‘Hey.’ Julius’ voice woke him from the train of thought, and Ludger smiled faintly when his brother finally straightened up from his curl. ‘Sorry.’

  
And as he was saying that, his brother took the hand with the bloody finger and started to _suck_ all the blood clean, the way a big brother never should be doing to his little brother. That was where the morbidity came from, of course, but hey, they were too far gone to care anyway, so whatever. Julius was going to be dead, and Ludger’s world would, too, when the only one that had been keeping it together would leave him.

  
‘Do you want to?’ Ludger heard himself asking as he wiped away the cold sweat still damping Julius’ forehead.

  
The look his brother gave him then was indescribably sad, and he said ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again. It broke Ludger’s heart to hear it, so he merely leaned up to shut his big brother up with a kiss.

  
Sometimes, Ludger wished they were never brothers. The rest of the time, though, he was glad that they were – else he would never have met Julius. In the back of his mind, someone was telling him they could work it out together, someone else was crying and insisting that there must be another way, while yet another was telling him to listen to his big brother because it was what he wanted. Ludger wanted to laugh. All those people who were telling him to kill _his big brother_ , who were _attempting to kill_ his big brother. They were dead, and here Julius was, alive and well.

  
‘Don’t cry, Ludger. Oh God, I’m so sorry.’ Julius said one more time, before they kissed again and their mixed tears froze into eternity on Ludger’s face.

  
The kiss tasted like ash on his lips.


	2. Wrong

When Ludger was five, it was okay to wash his hair for him, because the shampoo was getting into his eyes, and _it hurts, brother!_ Julius could never say no, not when it was him who had killed his mother and make the kid an orphan with no one to wash his hair for him.

When Ludger was seven, it was okay to tease him as he changed the bedding – it was the last time Ludger wet his bed, anyway. How many chances in life would they have for such memories, embarrassing or not? Incidentally, it was the same year his brother started cooking for him, and Julius would never forget the taste of that first pasta as he sat wrapping plaster after plaster on each of his baby brother’s fingers.

When Ludger was ten, it was okay to hold him and hum him to sleep on particularly bad stormy nights. There were memories that lingered in the depths of the subconscious that could not be wiped out, and only human warmth would chase them away on nights like those. Strangely enough, that was true for the both of them, but Julius would not tell Ludger that. He was the big brother of the two, after all.

When Ludger was thirteen, it was okay to have ‘the talk’ for the first time. His baby brother had been so scared that morning. _Am I sick, brother?_ Julius had wanted to smile at his innocence. Instead, he sat his brother down to begin the possibly most awkward conversation of his life.

When Ludger was fifteen, it was okay to lose a bit of his mind looking for his brother amidst the rain and the storm. The kid had run away from home, and when he found his brother, Ludger was clutching onto a tiny little thing that turned out to be a cat. Julius thanked the gods it was raining; his brother would have seen the tears wetting his cheeks otherwise.

When he finally found out that Ludger had run away because he had been rejected by a _girl_ , it was okay to let the brat have a piece of his mind, too. Julius had thought he was having a heart attack, a complete nervous breakdown, or a combination of the two; and if there was a pang somewhere that sounded suspiciously like jealousy, well, it was okay to be uncomfortable when his baby brother was finally growing up. Julius was just unused to it; that was all.

.

.

.

When Ludger was seventeen, it was totally _not_ okay to kiss his brother, whether drunk or not.

That night, Rideaux was being a dick and _had_ to compare notes with Julius on who was the better drinker. Then he had to be a bigger dick and invite the women to join in. Julius came home reeking of alcohol and cheap female perfume.

Ludger had been up waiting for him, by the looks of it. He had his head pillowed on his arms, his neck bending at an awkward angle. The food on the table was carefully wrapped, and suddenly Julius felt an acute guilt even through the haze of his mind. It positively made him feel _worthless_.

He had silently approached his brother, or as silently as he could in his inebriated state. Picking his brother up, they made way to Ludger’s room in lurches and stumbles. It was when Julius’ head hit the door with a bang that Ludger was startled out of his sleep.

The dreaminess in his eyes vanished when Ludger sniffed and stiffened in his arms. There was something dark that suddenly passed through his normally bright and so, so innocent eyes.

‘You ditched me for _women_ , brother?’

It was more of a statement than a question, and the hurt in Ludger’s voice went straight to Julius’ heart like a bullet. He opened his mouth to explain, to tell his little brother that he was so sorry, that he would never keep him up waiting again if he could help it, that he loved… But no word came out because his baby brother had reached up and _kissed_ him. There was a hand on the back of his head to keep him in place, but Julius was not moving away anyhow. He could not, would not, despite all the sirens in the back of his mind that started blaring the moment he wondered what the inside of Ludger’s mouth would taste like.

They stumbled into the room in a tangle of limbs, and his baby brother had never been more beautiful as he writhed on sheets, skin pale and face flushing. The darkness in his eyes never left, but Julius had no time to pay attention as he rasped out his brother’s name and clung to him like he was his whole world.

Maybe deep inside, Julius should be horrified at himself for doing this to his _baby brother_ , but he was not, because Ludger _was_ his whole world. Julius had never felt so ashamed and gratified in his life.

.

.

.

When Ludger was twenty, it was the furthest point away from okay to see his brother ditch the whole world for him.

Julius wondered where he had gone wrong, from when he washed Ludger’s hair when he was five to that night when he was seventeen and they held onto each other while sinking into darkness. He must have, somewhere, because this was _wrong_ and Ludger was supposed to be the innocent and kind-hearted brother of the two.

Julius could not, for the life of him, figure out where the wrong lay, though, so he hugged his brother and stopped caring altogether.

‘Or maybe… this is the world I wanted too.’

_His_ whole world was with him; that was all that mattered.


	3. Secrets on a stormy night

It was only when he was cowering in an unfamiliar corner of an unfamiliar street that Ludger came to his senses. The sky was opening up; to call it a downpour would be an understatement. It was unpleasant; everything was unpleasant. It reminded him of something terrible in the past that he could not recall – something to do with _don’t touch him you monster!_ and _you’re with Bisley, aren’t you?!_ He could remember that there was a lot of blood; in fact, the sky had been bloody for a moment. And yet, he could not recall what exactly it was that had transpired. It made his head hurt just to think about it, so Ludger let it go and chose to forget.

Nova had rejected him today. It hurt. It was not like he never expected it, yet it hurt all the same. Ludger felt like crying.

_If only Julius were here. He’d make it alright._ Ludger thought to himself. It was then that the idea hit him like a brick. _Oh God, he must be worried sick!_

As he frantically scrambled to his feet, something caught his eyes. There was an abandoned box that appeared empty at first, but when he moved near it, the box shook before revealing a soaked through kitten. The cat started staring at him with such sad eyes that Ludger could but pick it up and shield it from the rain the best he could. He wondered if Julius felt the same when he picked Ludger up, too.

_Shit. Where am I again?_

The streets started to become deserted as the rain dragged on. The streetlights blinked once, twice, before gloomy yellow flooded his vision. His hair stuck to his forehead, and the chill was beginning to eat into his bones, too. Ludger just wanted to go home.

_At home there’s Julius. Julius’d hug me and hum to me on nights like this. I just want to go home to Julius. Please._

As if there were someone out there listening, the wet thuds of shoes pounding hastily on the pavement echoed down the land, before they amplified into a too familiar silhouette rushing aimless against the gloomy yellow of the world. Ludger had never been happier to see a silhouette in his life.

‘Julius!’ He called, his voice breaking, but that was alright, because the silhouette stopped, as if not daring to believe it, before rushing towards him.

In front of him was Julius, his impeccable, indomitable brother, his face flustered and crunched up in concern. In the semi-darkness, Ludger imagined the rims of his eyes were red, and it was too unreal to believe, so he dismissed it as mere wishful thinking. Julius did not cry, and that was that.

But Julius did pull him into an embrace that would have crushed his bones to powder and merged them together completely – not that Ludger would have complained. In his ears was the chant _t_ _hank God you’re safe; you’re in so much trouble; oh thank God_ repeated in a rasp that had never failed to lull him back to a feeling of absolute safety.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘I’m so sorry. I won’t run away again, I promise.’

The cat that had been squished between their bodies made a protesting noise and scratched at Ludger’s hand, but his brother would not let him go. It was all Ludger could do to release the cat and hug Julius back. His arms went around Julius’ shaking shoulders, before they tightened, and tightened more, until he was hugging Julius just as hard as he was being hugged. It felt right; he belonged there. Ludger silently admonished himself for having run away from this in the first place. His only safe haven.

‘Come on, then. I see you’ve picked up a stray one. Let’s get you both home, okay?’

After a while, the embrace was reluctantly released, and Ludger immediately wished it had not been. He had forgotten how cold the rain was, immersed in the warmth and solidity of Julius’s arms. He brushed the disappointment aside, though. He was already feeling much better, and they were going home together, where there was Julius. And Julius would make it alright.

As they walked down the yellow lane, the rain still pouring upon them in torrents, Julius’ jacket draped over Ludger’s head and a cat held in his arms, he smiled to himself a secretive smile. He would tell not a soul that the water drenching the shoulder of his shirt where Julius’ face had been buried was warmer than even the embrace they had shared, so warm, in fact, that it made Ludger cry a little, too. It was his little secret, as was his impeccable, indomitable brother’s desperate face.

All his, and no one else’s.

Ludger was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, because I'm running out of ideas while still very much obsessed with this pairing, I've decided to take on prompts (JuliLudger only please). If you're interested, please do send one. I'm up to my ears in work, but I'll write when I can and SLOWLY fill the prompts. Thanks for reading everyone.


	4. A world without you (is a world where I'm not me)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Julius came to a fractured dimension where Ludger had died when he was small - filled. Thanks a lot, rpglady76; glad you like the story. The fill is probably not what you're looking for, but... anyway it'd break my heart if Ludger died in a house fire trying to cook for Julius. Seriously.

‘Why?!’

Julius growled even as he blocked the blow from Victor. Red was all he could see, and fury was all he could feel. It fueled his strength, but Julius could not seem to get the upper hand no matter what. He pushed back with his twin swords, clashing with another pair of identical swords as they repelled each other. Sparks flew, and Julius found himself sent flying back.

‘You know why!’

Victor shouted back at him, before landing a kick on his side. It was all Julius could do to keep his head on his neck as he staggered back. The retort only made him angrier, though, so he charged forward again, determined to _kill_.

‘No I don’t!’ A slash. ‘How could you?!’ A stab. ‘He was just a _child_ , for God’s sake!’ Getting stabbed in the stomach.

Victor watched him fall to the ground with blue eyes, as steely as Julius remembered them being every time he looked in the mirror a long time ago. Each and every one of their moves was the same, and yet it was Julius who was losing. He simply was not ruthless enough, not anymore. It was a sobering thought.

‘Yes,’ his own voice whispered back at him, ‘how could I – he was just a child, and half my brother. But that’s why I’m the divergence catalyst, see? That’s why I’m Victor, and you’re just Julius, forever _just_ big brother Julius.’

‘Victor’ held up a pocket watch – it was golden, and it made Julius sick to his stomach.

‘No,’ Julius muttered as he was bleeding out on the floor, ‘don’t. Not Ludger.’ The thought brought a burst of strength, and then suddenly he was on his feet and bringing forth both his and the golden watch that he took from his brother. ‘Not _my_ Ludger!’

Frankly, Julius could not remember very much after that. When he came to, Ludger was already sitting at his bedside, hands buried in his hair and shaking slightly. His body protested when he tried to sit up – Julius was sure he had more than a stab wound to show for the latest mission – but it did not matter because Ludger was _sitting at his bedside_. Alive.

‘Hey,’ he said, and realised that his voice, too, was shaking. Ludger’s head whipped up, and Julius could see that his eyes were too bright, like he could just blink and the tears would flow out unbidden.

‘Don’t do it again, please. I thought… I thought… Just don’t, please brother.’

And then Ludger was hugging him, and Julius was hugging him back with all the strength he could muster, battered body be damned.

‘You’re alright.’ Julius said, as though reassuring himself. ‘You’re here. You’re alright.’ He never realised that his voice was breaking towards the end.

Ludger went still in his arms, before he reached up to gently pet Julius’ hair, just like how he used to pet Ludger’s hair when he was younger. They were still shaking, but warmth was starting to again fill up the void that had appeared within him the moment he met that ‘Victor’ who had been living alone in a too-big flat and who did not eat spaghetti margherita. He was Julius, not Victor. Victor was dead, and with him the fractured world where there was no Ludger. A world that deserved to disappear.

‘How about spaghetti margherita for dinner?’ Ludger said, a calming hand still stroking the nape of his neck, and Julius felt like he could be okay again.

No one was going to take _this_ Ludger – _his_ Ludger – away from him; Julius would make sure of that in this world.


	5. Miracle

They were just getting out of the convenience store when the downpour started, and there was no way that Ludger was going in again. The people in there just made him so mad…

_‘Oh, you’re helping your brother shop? What a good boy!’ A middle-aged woman cooed._

_‘No,_ he _’s helping me shop!’ Ludger puffed his chest out proudly, before turning to grin at Julius who had been trailing behind him with the trolley, ‘Right?’_

_‘Yes, chef.’ Julius’ smile was so happy, it made Ludger happy too._

_‘Oh my,_ you’re _the chef?’ The woman giggled, and Ludger nodded again. It was_ he _who cooked for the both of them, alright, never mind the fact that he was just turning eight, because Julius was completely_ useless _at house work. Seriously, what would Julius do without him?_

_The woman turned to his brother again, ‘Your parents must be so proud.’_

_In an instant, though, a dark look crossed Julius’ face, and the eyebrow with the scar twitched. He looked like he was in pain. Ludger didn’t like this look on his brother even though he didn’t understand what suddenly made Julius so miserable. He abandoned the tomato he was picking up in favour of running to Julius and hugging his leg._

_‘Hey, don’t cry, brother? It’s okay.’_

_Julius looked down at him, and his eyes were so sad it almost broke Ludger’s heart. Suddenly, he found himself hating this woman who made Julius sad so much._

_‘Come on, let’s go home!’ He pulled on his brother’s hand, completely ignoring the woman. A hand fell on his head, and Ludger looked up to his brother’s smile again. It was okay, he would grow up big and strong to protect Julius, Ludger promised himself._

‘Hey, chef, what’re you spacing out for? C’mon, we’ve got an umbrella. Let’s go.’

There was an umbrella blocking his view of the crying sky. It spread over the both of them, like a mini-roof of a home they could always return to, and under it was Julius.

They stepped out into the rain, Ludger holding a small bag and his brother holding the rest as well as the umbrella. Mud splashed under his feet and suddenly Ludger wanted to ditch the umbrella and pull Julius into the rain to play. Julius never liked the rain, though, so Ludger stopped short. After a while, he noticed a distinct ‘plip plop’ sound of dripping water even amidst the roar of the rain outside.

‘Hm? What’s wrong?’

Julius turned slightly to face him. Ludger jumped.

‘There’s water dripping onto you!’ It was true. There was a hole in the umbrella, and the water was drizzling freely from it onto one of Julius’ shoulder, soaking through the fabric of his coat and drenching almost half of his shirt.

‘Oh this?’ Julius’ chuckle was still so warm, but Ludger was not happy anymore, not when he was dry and Julius was wet and Julius didn’t even _like_ the rain. ‘I’ll change when we get home. No big deal.’

‘Yes, it is!’ He insisted, before tugging at Julius’ coat, ‘C’mon, let me hold the umbrella! You’ll get sick!’

Julius laughed, but it was not funny. Ludger _knew_ he wasn’t tall enough to hold the umbrella anyway – he was _not_ a kid anymore! But… but…

‘We’d both get wet then. Don’t be difficult now, there’s just a little way left. Let’s make hot cocoa when we get home, alright?’

It was tempting. But Ludger was stubborn; he _knew_ why Julius let himself get wet. Ludger was _completely_ dry, after all. He wanted to cry.

‘Hey,’ he was trying really hard to hold his tears back now, but there was already some wateriness in his voice, ‘how ‘bout you piggy-back me, and I’ll hold the umbrella?’

Somehow, he got the stubborn Julius to agree in the end (maybe it was his tears, but as a man Ludger would never admit that), and very quickly, Ludger was happy again. Or, he was even happier than when they started, because he was holding onto Julius’ neck, and his back was so big and so, so warm. Ludger wanted to be as big as Julius when he grew up.

‘Brother, brother!’ He whispered in a conspiratorial voice, ‘want to know a secret?’

‘Yeah. What is it?’ Julius whispered back, a smile in his voice. It was strangely exciting.

‘A miracle will happen if you walk more slowly,’ he said.

Julius merely raised an eyebrow at that, the scared one, and Ludger lifted a hand to smooth it out.

‘It’s true! My teacher says that on rainy days, you can see spirits if you’re in the rain!’

‘Is that right?’ Julius chuckled again, as though he couldn’t be bothered to take Ludger seriously. Ludger wanted to pout, but he laughed instead when Julius _did_ slow down.

It was a long, long walk, and they never saw any spirits in the end. A miracle still happened, though, because Julius actually seemed _happy_ in the rain, walking with Ludger on his back, the rain plipping and plopping through the hole in the umbrella onto the ground under his feet.


	6. To be happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you just want fluffy sweetness, don't read the last sentence. I mean it. (I'm so sorry though...)

Ludger was a mature kid for his age. No, that was a gross understatement; no seven-year-old kid without a mother’s instincts would be cooking dinner for his fifteen-year-old brother who was absolutely useless at housework. However, that did not mean that Ludger was not a kid, or that he did not know how to be one.

‘Look, look, brother! There’s so much snow!’

Ludger was pointing at the window, an excited grin on his face. Ludger was never energetic in the morning, and yet here he was, bouncing with eagerness as he stared longingly at the snow that had fallen during the night. Julius, on the other hand, had forgotten what excitement at such a small thing felt like. He smiled indulgently at his brother.

‘You wanna go out and play in the snow?’

‘Yeah!’ His brother nodded so fast Julius was afraid he might hurt himself. The little bundle of energy dashed towards his room before returning with his jacket and muffler faster than Julius could imagine. ‘C’mon! You’re so slow!’

‘Nah. You go on; I’m sure there are other children playing in the snow too. You should play with them.’

Ludger paused and threw him a look like it was the stupidest thing he had ever heard. Then, determinedly, the kid was practically dragging him out of the house by the hand.

‘Don’t be an old man. It’s the weekend! C’mon, we’ve _gotta_ build snowmen together!’

For an instant, Julius childishly thought about digging his heels into the ground, but he capitulated soon enough. He could never resist when Ludger just seemed so _happy_.

The snow outside came up to their ankles, and although it was light and powdery, hardly ideal material for making snowmen, they did it anyway. Ludger had fun rolling up huge balls of snow and watching Julius struggle in stacking them up, and then he had even more fun throwing snowballs at his brother, who shook his head like a dog ridding himself of water.

‘Come here you little!’ Julius turned and made to grab the brat to shove snow down his shirt, completely forgetting the reason why he had never done this in the first place. Ludger dashed out of his reach with an ‘eep’ and made a face at him.

‘You’re supposed to throw snowballs at me! Come _on_ , I’m gonna bombard you!’

And then they were engaged in a snowball fight, the first snowball fight in his life. As another ball exploded squarely in his face, Julius could not recall ever being happier; it was like a restoration of the childhood that had been ripped away from him. Even though he did not deserve this, Julius just wanted to be childish and carefree for once. Once, just once, should be fine, right?

In the end, when both their hands and ears had turned bright red and they were lying in the snow making snow angels, Ludger flipped over and crawled on top of Julius.

‘See? Fun.’ He grinned like he knew everything in the world, before plucking Julius’ glasses from his nose.

‘And what are you doing now?’

He watched the blurry blobs of colour floated around, before getting up to follow the spot that shone even amidst the white of the snow. Ludger’s hair – Julius would recognise it even when he could not see anything else.

The kid tiptoed to stick the glasses onto the taller snowman’s head, before removing his muffler and wrapped it around the ‘neck’ of the shorter one. After adjusting it to his liking, he stood back, nodded proudly, and took Julius’ hand.

‘This is you,’ he pointed to the taller snowman with the glasses, ‘and this is me!’ pointing the shorter one with the muffler. ‘We’re awesome together, right?’

Julius could not see very well, but he knew his brother must be grinning again.

‘Yeah. We’re awesome together.’

Julius held Ludger’s cold little hand tighter. He could hear the smile in his own voice. That was right; he would be innocent and carefree and happy just this once, as they were holding hands in a world of snow where no one could find them with the snow brothers standing beside each other, always. The retribution for all that he had done could come later, hopefully a day far, far away.

.

.

.

And then twenty eight-year-old Julius found fifteen-year-old Julius’ snowmen, and his world crashed into a million snowflakes.


	7. What he wants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Julius gets jealous when some guy starts flirting with Ludger while they're out but can't do anything about it, so things get hot when they get home. (Sorry I can't really remember the exact wording of the prompt.)  
> rpglady76: Thanks for the prompt. Here's incredibly bad porn in response (and I mean soooo un-hot, because I'm useless at it).

Julius’ eye twitched, and suddenly he felt a terrible itch in his hands to make for the hapless waiter, grab him by the neck, and fling him out the nearest window. It had been the _third_ time in the last fifteen minutes that he circled back to their table.

‘Are you _certain_ you don’t want any extra? It’s free for you, handsome,’ the sleaze was saying to his baby brother.

No, wait, not his _baby_ brother – Ludger had stopped being Julius’ innocent baby brother a few years ago, actually. Anything but innocent, his bedroom demeanour when they were actually at home had indicated. And did Ludger just _waggle_ an eyebrow at Julius?

‘Well, if you say so. Extra tomato for me please.’ Ludger smiled sunnily at the waiter, and then suddenly it was _Ludger_ that he wanted to grab instead, but to bend the cheeky little bastard over the table right then and there rather than letting him go anywhere.

‘Of course – I’ll make it _extra juicy_!’

There was a snap, and, oh, it looked like Julius just crushed the glass of wine he was holding onto. He looked up at the waiter and made sure his teeth, the sharp ones, showed in his smile.

‘Yes, and another glass for me, please. Oh, may I also have some more napkins? Just in case there’s another spillage of bloo… I mean wine.’

The waiter must have taken the hint from the sinister gleam of Julius’ glasses, because he stuttered out a tiny ‘y… yes’ before scurrying away. Good.

Ludger was _smirking_ at him from across the table when Julius finally turned back. The clever brat always knew how to get what he wanted and which of Julius’ buttons to push to get it.

Which worked, obviously, because Ludger really was bent over the dining table first thing when they got home.

‘Had fun flirting?’ Julius growled as he removed Ludger’s belt and yanked both his trousers and pants down in one movement.

‘No.’

‘Oh? Then what were you doing back there?’ A good lick to his fingers, and then he was stretching Ludger – because no matter how angry he was, Julius would _never_ hurt his little brother.

‘Getting you in the moo… ah!’ Julius curled his fingers and smirked in satisfaction when the cheek flew right out of his brother’s brain. _That’s right_ , he thought, _focus on this – focus on_ me _!_

‘You know… I wouldn’t really want… anyone else!’ His brother was saying between huffs of breath, ‘I don’t want anyone else!’

It was a good start, but it was not enough. It was never enough. Julius curled his fingers again and again, insistently pressing on the bundle of nerves that never failed to turn Ludger into a puddle of need and want. Then he added a fourth finger, and Ludger almost sobbed. It served him right.

‘Stop teasing me! Oh God, just, please Julius!’

And Julius did, because like he said, Ludger knew which of his buttons to push to get what he wanted; right then, it was to hear his little brother beg for him. It was so wrong, and Julius would have so much time to hate himself for it later, but right then he just did not have the heart to do it, not when Ludger was looking over his shoulder with those pleading eyes and spreading his legs in blatant invitation before him.

‘Whose are you? Tell me.’ He leaned over to whisper in Ludger’s ear, delighting when the body beneath his shuddered violently.

‘Yours, Julius! You’re my big brother, my only family, my lover, my soul mate, my everything! Please I want you pleasepleaseplease!’

Julius had never been able to say no, and if he was still mad at the little minx for riling him up like that, well, Ludger had the whole night to pay for it.

Ludger was limping for the rest of the week. Which was nothing he did not want, anyway.


	8. Three things you're wrong about

You step into the flat to the smell of cooking. Lulu was sleeping on the couch, like usual, and your little brother is puttering around in the kitchen, like usual. It’s a perfect way to end a long, long day.

‘I’m home,’ you announce, and you _know_ that Ludger is going to turn around with a happy smile and say ‘welcome home,’ like usual. After all, the routine has been ingrained into the both of you like the need to breathe.

Except that today, you’re wrong. Ludger does turn around, does tell you ‘welcome home’ with a smile, but what he doesn’t do is to look happy. Despite the smile, he looks anything but happy.

‘What’s wrong?’ You ask, already extending a hand to touch his cheek. Ludger steps back, and you feel like the ground has just been pulled out beneath your feet.

‘It’s nothing,’ he’s saying, hesitating, before stepping closer again to hug you tight. ‘Welcome home, Julius,’ he says again, and was that a hint of tears in his voice?

‘Shh,’ you shush him, your baby brother, as you have done thousands of times before on stormy nights, ‘it’s alright, Ludger. I’m home.’

And then you start humming, and Ludger shakes, his arms around you tightening. But you keep on with the well-worn tune because you have absolute faith that it will eventually calm Ludger down, as it has always done in the past. Put a hand on his head, like that, and stroke the nape of his neck with your thumb, like that, and he will sag against you, warm and happy again.

Except that again, you’re wrong. Ludger stops shaking, but he looks up instead, and the look in his eyes is ten times worse.

‘Julius,’ he says, desperate, ‘big brother.’

‘Yes, Ludger. I’m here. I’m home.’ You reply, and Ludger kisses you, soft and sweet and heartbreakingly desperate at the same time.

You don’t even feel the pain as the lance goes through you, as Ludger’s tears wet your cheeks when you kiss him back.

Ah. So this is how all those Ludgers must have felt when you come home and hug them and push a sword through their hearts. Except that you’re wrong, because they didn’t know – their eyes were bright with innocence when they smiled at you like you’re the best thing in the world – and then you betrayed their trust in the worst possible way. They died believing that their Julius hated them. You have it so much better.

‘It’s alright, Ludger. I know,’ you say against the taste of his tears on your lips, ‘I love you too.’

Ludger screams, and your pain disappears along with the world.


	9. Dances

It was a ritual between them. Saturday night, Ludger cooked a lovely dinner filled with tomatoes; he cleaned up the dishes while Julius fed Lulu; they cleared the dining table and chairs to a wall, and then… And then the music was turned on, sweet and slow, and the dance began.

Some times, it was a waltz, flowing and elegant. Julius would hold his hand with an arm around him pressing their bodies almost flush together, but not quite. At first, there was still that chaste inch where a book could be held between them – to give the impression of _propriety_ , of course – but which vanished quickly when Ludger would lose his footing and regained it only when Julius gave him the only sturdy place to ground himself on, his body. They moved around the room in circles, and Ludger marveled at the easy grace with which Julius always managed to dip him sweepingly low. It never failed to take his breath away.

Other times, it was a sensual rumba. Julius’ hand would move torturously slowly up his thigh, his hip, his side, leaving Ludger trembling even as he swayed to the music. He, too, had tried to mimic the move in trailing a hand down Julius’ cheek, to his neck, his shoulder, but all it had ever gotten him was a fond smile accompanied by a knowing twinkle in blue, blue eyes.

Ludger loved them all, the dances. One of his favourites, though, was the tango. Not the gentleness he had forever been bathed in by Julius’ big-brotherliness, nor the slow burning that deliciously ate into his own self-restraints, but an explosion of uncontainable passion that resulted in a snap every time they separated just to be followed by a solid thud when their bodies came together again, crushed against each other like they were going to merge into one to never part again. It bordered on violence and it got Ludger so drunk he never wanted to be sober again.

Nights of the tango, Ludger called it. Julius preferred to call it ‘instances of excessive indiscretion’ and Ludger had a few opinions about that, but, well, Julius was entitled to his views. He had never protested, though, when Ludger took the hand on the small of his back to slide it lower and lower until it fit perfectly with the curve of his own behind. The dance always ended with them panting and sweaty, before another sort of dance ensued that messed them up even more in bed.

_That_ , of course, was another sort of dance. At least Ludger thought it was – also one of his favourites. There were the gentle nights, when Julius would lay him on the bed and move to kiss every inch of exposed skin as though he were worshipping Ludger and not about to have Ludger writhing under him all night long. On those nights, Julius seemed to have an infinite supply of patience as he moved within Ludger, deep and slow and sweet, no matter how hard Ludger would beg and sob for release. Those were the warmest nights when his heart felt too big for his chest and his happiness too overflowing to be contained within his being. Ludger loved them, despite all the frustration in between when Julius would not _move already_ , because his brother would, perhaps unconsciously, repeat to him the words _I love you_ all along the way. It was worth it.

On the _nights of the tango_ , however, their love making was rough, hard and fast, slick and dirty, just like the routine they had just performed to no one but themselves out in the living room. It was as if they could not get enough of each other – there was a thirst that would not be quenched no matter how much skin they touched or how deeply they were connected. Julius would have him every way he pleased, and so would Ludger. He would take what he wanted – needed – sure in the knowledge that Julius would give it to him as long as he needed, as many times as he wanted. In the morning, Ludger would always wake up aching – a good sort of aching – and it would be even better when they smoothed out the wrinkles in their spilled over passion with unhurried and wholesome petting that slotted their bodies perfectly together, just as perfectly as they had fitted together the night before. _I want to eat you for breakfast_ , Julius would say, and Ludger would let him, always.

In the end, though, it all came down to one thing. Once the dance ended and they lay tangled in bed, limbs so tightly intertwined that they were not even sure what was whose, Julius would hum to him again. It was the one song that threaded their lives together, as the lovers who moved into position on the dance floor once violins started to play; only, this dance had lasted their whole lives, and would last for as long as their lives lasted. This whole thing, whatever it was, in itself was just another dance for them, one that had gone past the boundaries of routine or ritual to become a _necessity_.

In the end, it came down to this: that Ludger would never let go of Julius’ hand just as certainly as Julius would never let go of his hold on Ludger, for as long as their dances continued, one, two, three, and four, into infinity.


End file.
